BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking

On a bike, riding somewhere. Every day, rain or shine.

Posts tagged ‘weary’

#365daysofbiking A rare burst of sunlight

November 13th – The day was better; better not just in the weather, but in the fact that I was back in Darlaston and not stuck in the hell of the local train service that seems lately to have staggered to a grim halt.

Victoria Park was showing well her autumn coat of many colours and was gorgeous in the late morning as I slid through it on an errand. Oh for the absence of rain, a little sun on my face and for the brightness of a dappled sky!

What has this autumn’s weather been so rotten?

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#365daysofbiking Golden years

August 5th – I was at work in Birmingham, late. I came back on a Lichfield bound train at sunset, and stumbled out tired in a beautiful, quiet golden hour.

I’ve been riding this weary journey from work for years along Lynn Lane. Always the same story: Summertime, working late, fatigue. Climb the long, steep steps up from the platform at Shenstone carrying my bike. Look down the lane towards home and the setting sun. Become struck with the sheer beauty of the hour.

And for all those years, the joy of it, and the love for it never wanes.

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#365daysofbiking Into the blue

June 30th –  A rest day, a day for bike maintenance and feeling a little bit down after the exertions of the previous days. The weather was less warm and it felt a bit like that had been summer.

I slipped out in the afternoon for a gentle spin and cruised a loop of Brownhills on a test ride. I felt OK, fluid, and not stiff, but I was already yearning to be out again – but the wind was quite strong and I really wasn’t into it. I ran some errands and caught up with things.

The landscape at Home farm was beautiful in its high summer jacket, and on the positive side, it does look now like summer has started.

As my ride reminded me, perhaps this was the start, not the end.

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#365daysofbiking Going green

April 12th – Returning home was hard tonight. Tired, into the wind, and again, that biting, horrible windchill finding every slightly undone zip and gap in clothing. I ached, my body was weary and mentally, I was on my limits.

Just to get out of the traffic and find a bit of peace, I took to the canal between the Black Cock Bridge and Pier Street. Resting a while at Catshill Junction, I noticed how much greener everything was.

I was nearing home. Rest, food, and copious mugs of tea were within sight. Spring is carrying on despite the cold and it’s going to be gorgeous when the warmth finally arrives.

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February 24th – The end of a very long, hard week. This week, I’ve worked a lot of hours, and found myself fighting the elements and often returning home late and tired.

I don’t mind the work, as I’m lucky enough to really enjoy my job, and being busy at this time of year is good as it makes those last, hard weeks of winter pass quickly.

But right now, as I crested the Black Cock bridge and looked down towards Camden Street, I could do with a break.

I’m knackered and I’m worn out!

February 9th – The end of a long day. This week hasn’t been easy and I’ll be glad when Friday ends. The first couple of months of the year are always hard but January was particularly cruel. I’m welcoming the gradual return to light, and the generally brighter, colder weather is much better than the murky damp of last week.

Bu my goodness, work had been demanding of late.

Rolling downhill from Shire Oak to Brownhills with no energy left in the tank, I was exhausted, tired and hungry. I think I need a holiday. Already.

February 2nd – I went into Birmingham late in the day, and 2very tired, I picked my return station to give me best wind advantage.

As I got out my gloves and sorted the lights and things at Blake Street, I watched a second train come through, a blur of light.

Sometimes, that’s exactly how I feel.

January 6th – on my way home, I had to pop into Stonnall, and as ever, the Old Swan pub was lit up beautifully, like a beacon to the weary and homeward bound. 

I love how many pubs look inviting at night.

November 6th – I was crushingly tired as I trundled home with a thankfully assisting tailwind. It was wet again when I started out and I was damp and miserable. The traffic was hell, and sweeping off the ring road at Walsall, I looked westwards to an unexpectedly beautiful sky.

Cheered, I pressed on and noticed that at the Black Cock pub, their annual bonfire and fireworks display were starting, with stalls and a merry go round on the front car park. The lights looked so beautiful in the dark.

It’s been a hard few weeks. I’m tired, I’m grey and I need rest. Thank heavens it’s the weekend.